


The L Word

by sodakooh



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur is a Prat, Blood, Gwen is a sweetheart, Hurt/Comfort, I love my boys, M/M, Major Character Injury, Merlin Would Kill Himself For Arthur, Near Death, Pining Merlin (Merlin), Prompt Fill, arthur discovers merlin's magic, there's an infinity war reference in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 01:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14759651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodakooh/pseuds/sodakooh
Summary: Arthur was supposed to be back by now. He was supposed to be okay.Merlin was supposed to protect him.[Prompt fill: "Your leg's bleeding." "Oh really? I hadn't noticed that half of my goddamn blood was flowing out of my leg, but thanks for letting me know."]





	The L Word

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Your leg's bleeding." "Oh really? I hadn't noticed that half of my goddamn blood was flowing out of my leg, but thanks for letting me know."
> 
> let's see if you can catch the infinity war reference ;)

Merlin paced back and forth besides Gaius, a book in his hand but his thoughts on a million things that a single book couldn’t cover. Besides, this was a book on remedies, and there probably wasn’t a remedy for his heart, which bat rapidly in his chest.

 

“Merlin, won’t you stop pacing already? Just watching you is making me dizzy,” Gaius said, sighing heavily.

 

The sorcerer chuckled nervously, plonking himself down in front of Gaius with his book still open to the same page. Instead of the pacing, Merlin turned to repetitive tapping on the wooden cover of the book, pushing Gaius to madness even quicker.

 

“Good heavens, Merlin, why are you so fidgety all of a sudden?” the old man finally asked, slamming his small bottles containing certain mixtures inside. Merlin had been startled by the sudden sound, and jumped.

 

Merlin eyes seemed to come back to reality, and he slumped in his seat. “Sorry, Gaius,” he apologized with a sigh, “it’s just that Arthur went on a hunting trip this afternoon, and he said he’d be back before supper, but it’s well past supper and I haven’t heard a thing.”

 

Gaius picked up his little bottles once more, adding them both to a bigger bowl with other ingredients. “Is that so? Well, if it will calm your nerves, why don’t you go back to the castle and check to see if he’s returned.”

 

Merlin furrowed his brows, willing himself to stay seated although every nerve in his body ached to go sprinting through the court and into the castle to find Arthur. “It’s… fine. He’s probably fine. Besides, I need to help you with the awful fevers plaguing the Tannonbold village.”

 

Gaius laughed. “Merlin, I’ll be fine on my own. I’m old, but I’m not that old,” he added, making the sorcerer laugh as well. “Besides, I was just finishing this medicine. I’m going to deliver it to the children in the village over so I won’t need your help researching the cause anyhow.”

 

Merlin practically leapt from his seat in front of Gaius, shoving his book back into its spot on a shelf as soon as Gaius finished speaking, then ran out the door.

 

As Merlin was exposed to the cool air, another layer of uneasiness dropped on top of Merlin’s chest. He couldn’t really explain it, but it was almost as though he  _ knew _ something went wrong; perhaps it was just Merlin being paranoid, but there seemed to be a sort of pull on his heart, causing him to stop running and look towards the forest.

 

_ Two sides of the same coin. _

 

With booted feet pounding against the uneven terrain, Merlin ran through the forest with searching eyes. The sun had already begun to set, so Merlin performed a spell to create light in the palm of his hand.

 

“Arthur?” Merlin called out, stopping to search for any signs of the prince. Nothing evident appeared before him, so Merlin went deeper into the forest. In his frenzied state, Merlin tripped over a tree root that bulged out of the ground, falling right onto his chest.

 

As the sorcerer opened his eyes, groaning, he noticed a strip of red fabric caught on a branch near his face. Its hue was undeniably identical to that which the knights of camelot wore under their chainmail. If that wasn’t bad enough, Merlin noticed a fluid spotting the fabric, creating a darker shade of red to which he could assume was blood. 

 

_ Arthur, _ Merlin thought, another wave of panic running through him. He continued jogging, occasionally stumbling over bushes and snapping branches under his feet. Merlin hoped that the blood on the fabric was blood from game, and not from his prince. 

 

Merlin felt the burn in his lungs as he stopped running, panting heavily as an old tree supported his weight. He used both hands to lean against the tree, the light being extinguished beneath the bark. “Arthur?” he called out, looking in different directions.

 

A faint, weak voice was heard from behind him. 

 

“Merlin…”

 

There, slumped against the stump of a cut down tree, was Prince Arthur. The royal’s movements seemed to be sluggish, as Merlin noticed him trying to remove his armour. There was a trail of blood leading up to where Arthur sat, and blood turned his chainmail armour from silver to deep crimson; it was just as the sorcerer feared.

 

Merlin ran over to where Arthur was, immediately trying to identify a source of the the bleeding. “What happened to you?” Merlin asked, panic evident in his voice. 

 

“Ambush,” Arthur groaned, his voice sounding both strained and sluggish. Merlin was able to find a few places where some sort of blade had pierced points of the chainmail. Arthur didn’t add anything else to his explanation other than a sharp inhale and a cry of pain, muffled due to him keeping his jaw clenched, as Merlin shifted his leg accidentally. 

 

“Your leg… **Your leg’s bleeding** ,” Merlin murmured, noticing the damage was extensive.

 

**“Oh really?”** Arthur murmured. **“I hadn’t noticed that half of my goddamned blood was flowing out of my leg, but thanks for letting me know.”**

 

Merlin let out a dry laugh, a glimmer of hope igniting somewhere deep inside him at the sound of Arthur’s snarky remarks. “Shut up, you prat,” Merlin teased back, not noticing that he was tearing up. “I have to get you back to Gaius. He’ll be able to heal you.”

 

Arthur clenched his jaw as Merlin tried to help Arthur up, but the prince let out grunts and groans of pain, letting out strained, “Merlin, Merlin, I--I can’t.”

 

Merlin set Arthur down, the spark of hope in his chest dying down rapidly. “Arthur, please, if you don’t get up, I can’t get you to Gaius,” he tried, looking as Arthur’s face paled more and more. The older man was losing too much blood too quickly, and there no way Merlin could get him to Gaius, seeing the state that he was already in was too far gone.

 

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, a hoarse, strained laugh rising from his chest. “So this is it,” he began. “I… I always thought that I’d go out in some honourable way.” Arthur swallowed tiredly. “Never thought it’d be because of some… bloody ambush.”

 

Merlin lowered his head, shaking it as to dismiss what Arthur was saying. “Stop talking like that, Arthur. You still have a kingdom to run. You’ve yet to become king.” Arthur didn’t seem to be taking any of what he was saying, so Merlin huffed loudly and stood up. “I’m going to look for patrol guards. There must be  _ someone _ who can help.”

 

The male had already turned to run off on a mission, but a weak and unrecognizable voice sliced through his determination and thoughts.

 

“No. Please… don’t go.”

 

Behind Merlin was a young, frightened boy who had the exact same looks as Arthur. Yes, this boy was royalty, arrogant, and too stubborn for his own good, but he was also fragile, and so, so young--too young to die. The look of pure fear in the boy’s face at the thought of dying alone was convincing enough to make Merlin move back to Arthur’s side.

 

The only sounds that were heard in the quiet, evening air around them were Arthur’s ragged breaths and sharp inhales. Every noise of pain from Arthur was another stab in the gut for Merlin, reminding him of how he had failed at protecting Arthur until he became king.

 

“Merlin,” Arthur began speaking, voice seeming even weaker, “I hope you’ll polish my armour once I’m dead, or else I will come and haunt you from the afterlife.” Merlin teared up once more at the classic Arthur snarkiness that he knew he would miss.

 

Arthur flashed Merlin a small smile, and it was in that moment that Merlin knew he couldn’t just let Arthur die.

 

 _Magic,_ Merlin thought, anxiety creeping in on the thought of using magic on Arthur right in front of him while he was _conscious._ _I have to, though._

 

“Sire, do you trust me?” Merlin asked quietly, hands shaking as he rubbed his right palm with his left thumb. “You know that I swear I would  _ never _ hurt you, right?”

 

Arthur’s expression changed to a confused one. “Yes… Of course. Why?” he asked, but Merlin didn’t provide a direct answer.

 

“It has been my destiny to protect you, Arthur,” the sorcerer said, taking a deep breath. Merlin put his hands where the worst wound was and began reciting a spell.

 

_ “Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid,” _ he said, suddenly feeling extremely wobbly and faint,  _ “þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!” _

 

Arthur winced as the spell progressed, but his eyes never left the golden ones belonging to who he thought was simply his manservant. Merlin was more--so much more, and somehow this  _ sorcerer _ slipped right under his nose.

 

As soon as the final words were spoken, Merlin slumped onto the ground, just barely keeping himself upright with the help of his elbows pressed against the dirt. Arthur ran his hand over where the injury just was, noticing nothing but remnants of dried blood to his pants. Arthur then looked over to where Merlin was, but the other refused to look at him.

 

“I’m sorry, sire,” Merlin murmured after a few moments of silence. “I’m sorry. This was the only way to save you, and I… I couldn’t watch you die. I’ll accept the punishment of using magic in Camelot.” As Merlin spoke, it felt like everything around him was wobbling and rotating.

 

Arthur was silent for what felt like eons, but then finally, he whispered, “You’re a sorcerer?”

 

Merlin, still not looking up, nodded solemnly, only now he had his eyes squeezed shut in hoped that the world would stop spinning around him like a maypole.

 

“And you… you used magic to save my life, even when you knew what the consequences are?”

 

Another curt nod. Another silence followed his response, but it was stopped by Arthur.

 

“How many times have you used magic in front of me?” the prince asked, but his voice seemed far away.

 

“I’ve… uh, I’ve done it quite a bit. More times than… um, than I could count,” Merlin mumbled, not noticing how his own words were becoming sluggish. “Arthur, I don’t… I don’t feel so good.”

 

Before his brain could register what Arthur had said in response, the spinning became too much for Merlin to handle. The last thing his brain remembered was the feeling of cool, damp dirt pressed against his cheek.

 

 

*

 

 

Something cool and damp pressed onto Merlin’s forehead and cheeks as he stirred, green eyes fluttering open with a sort of heaviness to it. Seated besides him on his bed was Guinevere, a soft expression on her features.

 

“Gwen…” Merlin murmured, the sound of the rag being dumped back into the bucket of water and being squeezed out sounding somewhat pleasing to Merlin’s ears. 

 

Just then, a sudden wave of memories rushed back into his mind, and Merlin looked at Guinevere, panicked. “Wait, where’s Arthur?” he asked, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “Is he alright?”

 

Gwen shushed Merlin, gently guiding him so that he could lay down once more. “He’s fine, Merlin. He’s back at the palace--he requested an audience with the King to report on what happened yesterday, and about what you did.”

 

Merlin looked at her with a baffled expression. “What? Yesterday?” he asked, glancing out the window only to notice that it was daytime.

 

The fear of being executed seemed to plague his thoughts at that moment, but he knew that it was worth it. He got to save Arthur, and quite frankly, that’s the best thing he could use his magic for--even if it could be the last magical thing he’d ever do.

 

“Merlin,” another voice said, and the sorcerer looked over at the entrance to his room to see Gaius, a relieved expression on his face. “You had me worried sick. I know I told you to not show your magic to anyone, but… you saved the young prince’s life.”

 

Merlin froze solid, eyes looking between him and Gwen. She smiled softly, shaking her head. “Gaius already told me what you can do, Merlin. Arthur came rushing in last night, carrying you in his arms and demanded Gaius do something.”

 

Gaius continued the explanation, sitting at the foot of the bed. “Arthur thought you had given your life for his when you started performing the wound healing spell. He seemed quite relieved when I said it was just your energy being drained completely in order to cast it.”

 

Merlin had been silent the entire time, listening to the details of the story. Arthur didn’t leave Merlin there to die. Arthur didn’t abandon him, so that meant that somewhere inside of Arthur, he still cared about Merlin the sorcerer

 

Almost as if on cue, there was a knock at the front door. Gaius got up and left, both voices muffled to the door to his room acting like a barrier. A few moments later, the door to his room slowly opened up, revealing a scuffed Arthur who seemed very much alive.

 

“I’ll, erm, give you two some space,” Guinevere said, placing the cloth back into the bucket and exiting the room, closing the door behind her to give some extra privacy.

 

Somewhere inside Arthur’s eyes, there was a sort of cautiousness. A cautiousness that stemmed from Uther poisoning the young mind of Arthur’s, telling him that magic was evil and cursed. It was a cautiousness that survived, even when Merlin had proved that not all magic was evil.

 

“You’re alive,” Merlin said bluntly, pushing himself into a seated position once more.

 

“So are you, apparently” Arthur replied, a small smile cracking the worried exterior that belonged to the brainwashed prince--the smile that felt  _ oh so familiar. _

 

Arthur sat at the edge of the bed, glancing over Merlin’s pale skin whilst chewing on his lower lip. The gears spinning in Arthur’s mind were obvious, and Merlin took it upon himself to speak up about the thing he knew was coming.

 

“When’s my execution?” he asked, voice with lack of emotions.

 

Arthur didn’t answer right away, and the thought that Merlin would die soon was practically set in stone. Part of Merlin felt betrayed in realizing that after all the years Merlin spent with Arthur, he would still execute him for having magic.

 

Merlin stared at his hands, still feeling a little callous from the errands he had to run from the previous days. He could hear Arthur shifting and standing up, but Merlin didn’t raise his head. Instead, he felt a few tears roll down his cheeks.

 

“Honestly, you are a real idiot,” Arthur sighed, arms crossed over his chest. Merlin looked up, only to notice the prince fiddling with a few trinkets Merlin had along his windowsill. “You really thought I would get rid of my best servant?” 

 

Arthur didn’t turn back to face Merlin until he heard quiet sniffling. Merlin had a steady stream of tears running down his face, which made Arthur’s chest hurt.

 

“Why are you crying?” Arthur asked Merlin, sitting next to him on the bed. “I just told you that you aren’t being executed.”

 

Merlin frantically wiped at his tears, trying to compose himself because heaven knows Arthur could use this as a way to tease him. “I’m sorry, it’s--it’s just that… I thought you were going to hate me for being this way,” he stammered out, saying it out loud making him cry even harder.

 

Curiously enough, a pair of strong arms were wrapped around Merlin’s frame, and the smell of forest and sweat was recognizably Arthur. Merlin melted into the embrace, hugging back with the same sincerity.

 

“After what you’ve done for me, I could never bring myself to hate you,” Arthur said, showing true emotions for the first time  _ ever. _ “You’ve saved my life more times than I could count, according to Gaius. It wouldn’t be right to have you killed after all you’ve done for me, and this kingdom.”

 

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, amazed that his prince could be so understanding. “But… what about Uther?” he asked. “He’s certainly not as welcoming as you are, is he?”

 

Arthur pulled away at that point and took a deep breath. “I… didn’t tell anyone else about what happened. The only one who heard me shouting was Guinevere, since she was here for some sort of remedy for Morgana.”

 

The sorcerer exhaled deeply, relieved at the fact that he no longer had to keep such a big secret from his friend. “Thank you, Arthur.”

 

Arthur nodded in acknowledgement, then got up. “Well, if there’s no more big secrets you’d like to tell me, my armour needs polishing. I assume you’ll have it finished by tonight?” he said, and Merlin cracked a smile.

 

“Of course, sire,” he answered.

  
Merlin decided to keep one secret to himself, however--the  _ L _ word.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! please fuel me with comments <3


End file.
